Sirius: Fugitive Dog
by Serran Arcott
Summary: Sirius's life after escaping from Azkaban. What REALLY happened....
1. Escape

  
Notes: Okay. This is my first HP fic. Up til now, I've been writing Star Wars fics which I got  
bored of. This takes places during the 3rd and 4th books and takes a few liberties. Everything you   
know doesn't belong to me, belongs to the magical author herself: J.K. Rowling.   
  
Fugitive Dog  
  
Chapter 1: The Escape  
  
Sirius looked around, sensing the time was now.   
  
"Pettigrew, I will kill you. I will kill you..."  
  
The dementors sensed a madness but took it for noting. They could care less. They thrived on insanity,   
and lived off fear. They enjoyed the fear and madness reverberating off the walls of Azkaban. They  
knew not of Pettigrew or even why Sirius was put in Azkaban. They just wanted his life force. It was   
getting to be in such short supply lately.  
  
Sirius had no idea what he was doing when he transformed into the dog, the newspaper in his jaws.  
He squeezed through the bars, feeling his ribs rub against the bars. He hardly noticed, his obsession  
of innocence taking over him. The Dementors turned to feel in his cell for the missing life force   
and gave a horrible shriek when they realized hehad gone. There was no body, no life, no Sirius.  
  
The dog could hear dementors following his life force through the halls, knocking over trays of   
bread and water, shrieking and screaming, calling others to the chase. Sirius reached a dead end.  
Above was a window, and below that was roaring waves and cold, silent water that broke upon rocks.  
Sirius felt the cold, heard the rasping breaths. He had one chance, he spit the newspaper at the  
oncoming offense and jumped arms sprawled as he let out a bloodcurdling howl. He fell upon the water,  
blessing the rock-free area.   
  
He recovered himself by sitting on a rock that jutted out from the surface of the water near his   
splashdown. Then, his mind set, he swam off to England, 50 miles away... 


	2. The Search Begins

Note: Hope you like this series, because it will go on for some time... ;) And, as per suggestions,   
future chapters will be longer.  
Disclaimer: You know the drill. Everything you don't recognize as J.K.Rowling's work, is mine.  
  
Sirius: Fugitive Dog  
Chapter 2: The Meeting  
  
Cornelius Fudge sat down at the head of a long rectangular table and slammed a manila folder onto the  
rough surface. "Ladies and gentlemen of the Department of Justice!" Fudge looked around at the circular   
room and walked around to the only door. He swiftly slammed it shut and locked it automatically locked   
from inside the room. No magic could penetrate it but deep, dark magic, now.   
Fudge turned back around and glared at the committee members. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began again,   
"At 2:30 AM, of the coast of London, a prisoner ESCAPED from Azkaban!"  
There were some disquieting murmuring and several dark looks. Fudge went on, "This prisoner's name is   
Sirius Black."  
More whispers.  
"The owl came from the head dementor himself, Arkhaos. He is very troubled as no prisoner has escaped  
before and Arkhaos himself, the leader of the Dementors, was guarding Black's cell at the time. He says  
that to redeem himself he, personally, will gather and conduct a search for Black.  
A large, muscular man who seemed to be in his 40's piped up, "Are you trying to tell us, SIR, that  
Sirius Black has survived the fall and swim from Azkaban? He has no wand and therefore no means to  
conduct magic! He would surely drown!"  
Fudge glared at him, puffing up and turning red, "I will admit it seems a bit, er, sketchy, to say   
that he survived the ordeal, but we have no idea what magic that You-Know-Who has taught him. And,   
Black is a madman. He may go to any means to complete his goal, and to finish off the last Potter   
for his master."  
"Fudge!"  
"Do you really think..."  
"Impossible"  
Fudge looked around at the crowd sternly. The Head of Department, Henry Gregory, spoke calmly and softly,   
"Fudge, my good man, I propose we allow the Dementors to take care of it until and if Black is sighted.  
And, Fudge, do tell the Muggle Prime Minister. We can't have the Muggles confronting him, you know. If   
Black is still alive, a fisherman, or some Muggle will find him. Then, I will add mine to the search."  
Fudge nodded, "That sounds good. I say we hang tight for now. This is extremely confidential. So do not   
discuss these details even among yourselves. Do you understand?"  
There were murmurs of agreement.  
"Good. Dismissed."  
  
Lucius Malfoy sat outside the room muttering darkly. His magic had allowed him to hear everything. So, they  
still thought Black to be the traitor... Well, they'd find out. Malfoy hadn't really had to listen in.   
Goyle had a spot in the Department of Justice and would report to the Death Eaters tomorrow night on  
any new suspicions. The Ministry was in for it now. Sirius Black's return would be the beginning of a new   
age.  
  
Sirius collapsed upon the sand. He felt limp and weak. He grabbed a tree root and looked around for people.   
There were none but an old fisherman who lay sleeping with a fishing rod in his hands. Sirius saw that he   
could easily change back and not be noticed here. And if he was, it didn't matter. Muggles had no idea who   
he was did they? He swiftly changed back and lay on the cold sand in dirty rags that now smelt of fish.  
  
Cornelius Fudge now stood before the Muggle Prime Minister with the gravest look on his face. The Prime  
Minister who, although not totally swayed, had long ago decided that there were such things as wizards.   
Today's episode was just more proof when Fudge had uninvitedly apparated into his office.  
"Fudge, dear man, I understand your concern, but why would a magical convict want to harm normal people?  
I mean, it would get him nowhere in your government would it?" the Prime Minister said disbelievingly.  
Fudge shook his head and gave the Prime Minister a grave look, "No, but it would get somewhere in your   
press if someone died again with no death markings. Prime Minister, he is ruthless. Once he kills a   
Muggle, err, one of your people, the other Death Eaters will return and begin the tribulation all over  
again!"  
"Death Eaters?"  
"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's followers. They are cunning and undoubtedly hiding, waiting for a chance to  
spring a trap on both the magical and Muggle, I mean, NORMAL world. Killing your kind is FUN to them. We   
need your people to be on the lookout for Black. It will end this so much sooner."  
The Prime Minister sighed, "Alright. I'll give it to the press directly. Good afternoon, Fudge."  
"Good Afternoon," and with that, Fudge disapparated.  
"I never should have taken this job," the Prime Minister muttered as he shuffled papers and picked up a   
bright red phone. "Get me Loudmouth 1."  
  
Sirius awoke sweating and cold. He could tell he had a fever and he shivered and shook plainly. A man   
stood above him and it must have been the old man that woke him. "Hello, chap. How's the young boy   
feeling, eh?"  
The old man wiped his forehead with a damp cloth and went back to the wheel of an old fisher's boat.   
"Hey!" Sirius yelled and the fisherman turned, his scruffy beard fluffed up dangerously, "You're   
taking me away from the coast! I wanted to be there!"   
The fisherman shook his head and stuffed his pipe in navy blue coat pocket, "Nah. Not that coast. That  
was North Island. You're still 35 miles away from Mother England. I'll get ya there though. Do yer fish?  
I could sure use a helper on these long trips. I've got a net out now..."  
Sirius growled a no and lay down, only to fall into another dream-filled sleep.  
  
  
  
  
Hope you liked it! Please review and put suggestions for future additions!  
  
  



End file.
